


take a shot

by likelightning



Category: Women's Soccer RPF
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-16
Updated: 2015-03-09
Packaged: 2018-03-01 16:49:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 18,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2780522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/likelightning/pseuds/likelightning
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU. It starts with a favor. Ashlyn breaks her leg. Kelley gets a phone call. The leaves are changing, the nights are still warm, and Kelley thinks <i>what the hell</i>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

It starts with a favor.

Ashlyn breaks her leg. Kelley gets a phone call.

She’s sitting in the window of her apartment watching the last heat of summer steam on the sidewalk. The sun is orange across the street. Her bare feet are braced against the side of the window frame, a September breeze ruffling her hair.

Her cheery ringtone breaks into the Spotify playlist she’d been meandering through and she tucks a slip of paper into her book to lean over and answer.

“Hello?”

“Huge favor.”

“Hey huge favor, I’m Kelley.” Kelley grins at her own joke and drops onto the ground from the windowsill.

“That’s hilarious, Dad.” Ashlyn says, eye roll implicit, and then takes a deep breath. The rest of her words are rushed and rambling and mildly embarrassed, but Kelley picks up the story between the dreaded hiking trip gone wrong cliché, a few references to “glamping”, and the muffled sound of Ali’s voice in the background. It ends with a leg cast and a question and Kelley tugging at the curly strands of hair escaping her bun.

“Do you think you could help out?” Ashlyn finally asks. Kelley tilts the phone away from her mouth and gives a little sigh. She tugs her bottom lip between her teeth. With another sigh, she lets it go and tilts the phone back up to her mouth.

“You owe me for the rest of your existence.” She says dryly.

And that’s how she inherits twelve six year olds and a bag of brand new soccer balls, plus a sweet dry erase clipboard and a lifetime of favors from Ashlyn.

She buys her own whistle.

Practice starts on a Tuesday.

-

Ashlyn shows up early to their first practice, hobbling along crazily on her crutches. Her blue cast has been extensively decorated in black Sharpie, weird designs and animals that snake up the sides. If Kelley had to guess, she’d say Erin’s handiwork. But despite the handicap, Ashlyn is grinning and she gives Kelley a nod as she swings quickly across the grass.

“You excited?” She asks once she finally reaches Kelley. She shifts onto one crutch to push her sunglasses onto her head. Kelley feels the net bag of soccer balls leaning against her feet, the whip of cool air in the wind, the warm smell of late summer grass.

“Hell yeah.” Kelley agrees. The peace is interrupted by a handful of small children rushing them from the parking lot, bookbags swinging wildly from the shoulders. They come in packs of threes and fours, moms in yoga pants trailing behind. They’re all yelling _Ashlyn!_ and swarming to her side, some brave enough to lunge forward and wrap their arms around her unbroken leg after they’ve tossed their bags onto the bleachers. Ashlyn reaches down to ruffle a little boy’s hair, a grin breaking out across her face.

“Everybody, this is Coach Kelley.” Ashlyn introduces her, prompting Kelley to give a bright wave and a smile. She gets a few “heys!” and a few shy smiles, the kids milling around her but leaving her a safe two foot radius of space they don’t afford Ashlyn.

“Alright guys, give me two laps!” Ashlyn tells them. They stream back off into the direction they came from. It’s kind of incredible that they’re even staying on their feet the way they sway and tumble into each other, cleats catching in the grass.

Someone bumps into Kelley’s leg and she looks down to see a head of black hair. The boy stumbles back a step and looks up. There’s a bashful, brave look on his face.

“My bad.” He says, flashing her a smile full of pearly whites. He’s decked out in all Nike gear, from the armband around his bicep to the Hypervenoms on his feet.

“No worries!” Kelley says. He takes off after the pack, somehow looking ten times more comfortable in a sprint than the rest of his team. Kelley cocks her head as she watches him.

“Alright Coach, let’s get these balls out.” Ashlyn nudges the net bag with the tip of a crutch and the bag spills over on itself, releasing soccer balls onto the grass. Kelley catches one with her toe, flips it up to bounce off of Ashlyn’s stomach. “Don’t attack the cripple!” Ashlyn protests, pulling her crutches in for protection. Kelley’s laughing, readying another ball, when a stream of kids roars through them, kicking the balls without aim or intention on their sprint around the field, half of them giggling madly.

“Hey!” Ashlyn yells, throwing her hands over her head as a ball catches a crutch, and Kelley can do nothing but laugh.

-

In between practices, Kelley’s life goes on.

She runs with Tobin in the morning as the sun rises in the sky. Her roommate runs like she thinks: steady and calm, one foot after the other. Kelley lets her set the pace. They stop at the coffee shop two blocks away from home and walk from there, hurrying against the morning chill and holding their takeaway cups with both hands.

At night she fields double team phone calls from her sister and her mom, her text books scattered open on the wood floor of her living room. She puts on records that are heavy and new, their packaging uncreased in her hands. She lights her new Autumn Harvest candles and puts her family on speakerphone, letting their voices fill the coolness of her apartment. She leaves the windows open.

On Saturday nights she goes out with Caitlin and Brittany. They stretch dinner into a three hour affair, a drink for every course while the outdoor lights begin to blur and the outdoor heaters turning her cheeks red. Kelley charms the waitress at their favorite Mexican restaurant and their margaritas come back twice as strong but still sweet. Brittany slings her hand in emphasis and knocks Caitlin’s water into her lap and Kelley dissolves into laughter at the wet spot that spreads across her pants. They walk down the street to a new bar and Kelley flirts with the girls playing pool until they let her in on the next game. She buys a pretty blonde a drink and leaves with a number and Catlin tucked into her side as they carefully stumble outside to where Tobin is waiting with the car.

-

The morning of their first game, Ashlyn’s running hella late and Kelley’s tasked with getting the kids ready, tying shoes and taking responsibility for earrings and barrettes. The grass is still damp with morning dew and the ball skids slick across it from tiny soccer cleat to tiny soccer cleat. The kids bunch up into little groups to have hilariously bizarre six year-old conversations and there’s always at least one crouching down to dig at something in the grass. It seems like as soon as she gets a moment to sit down and scribble down substitutes, half of them are crowded up to her, nervous and asking a million questions.

Finally, she gets one of the dads to help out with a shooting drill and sketches out the last of her formation. She breaks up a pushing match between her two strikers and rubs at her forehead as she picks a defender to be captain for the coin toss. She waves their goalkeeper, Zack over to her side and hands him a penny and a pair of gloves, tells him to ask his mom to help him get ready.

Still no sign of Ashlyn.

Kelley’s calling out brief advice and support a few minutes later when she notices a tall, dark haired woman striding across the field towards her. Her direction is unmistakable and Kelley full on stops yelling when she gets a good look at her. She’ll tell Ashlyn it’s less to do with how tall and well dressed and good-lord-attractive she is, and more to do with just how aggressive the swing of her walk is.

“What are these?” A pair of bright blue, pissed off eyes stare straight into Kelley’s. Kelley glances down at the woman’s hands and then back up at her. She blinks.

“Gloves?”

“For my son?” The woman asks, her fingers tightening around the gloves, and at once it clicks. _Zack’s mom_ , Kelley thinks, and the woman’s seriously unimpressed with Kelley’s decision to put her son in goal. The look on her face is positively murderous and probably shouldn’t be as attractive as it, especially in conjunction with the low slung jeans and soft white sweater that belie the coldness of her expression.

Kelley tilts her head to one side, trying to fight back the quirk of smile. The only phrase running through her head is: _Red Alert: Soccer Mom_ and it’s making it difficult to keep a straight face.

“He’s starting in goal-” She begins to explain, but the woman cuts her off.

“Where’s Ashlyn?” She asks impatiently, gesturing slightly with the gloves. Slightly offended, Kelley resists the urge to cross her arms across her chest. She shifts so that they’re eye-to-eye – or rather, eye-to-collarbone, as she towers over Kelley even in low brown boots. Kelley ignores her question.

“Look, Zack’s a great goalkeeper and we need him in goal today-“

“Zack is not a goalkeeper. He’s a _striker_ , because he’s the only player on this team that can score.” Kelley feels her chest puff slightly as she leans forward, responding instinctively to this woman’s bluntness. The woman never stops staring her down, her eyes growing more dangerous at Kelley’s refusal to back down.

“No amount of points will be able to help us if we can’t keep the other team from scoring-“ Kelley argues.

“I didn’t drive all the way out here to watch my son sit in goal-“

“The keeper has the most crucial job on the field-“ The woman just scoffs.

“ _Everyone_ knows who gets put in goal-“ Before she can finish _that_ statement, Kelley puts a hand halfway up, her eyebrows up to her hairline. The woman eyes her raised hand like it’s a particularly smell piece of garbage.

“If you want to discuss this after the game, fine-“

Two long blows from the referee’s whistle interrupt Kelley before their discussion can turn into a full blown argument, the sound making them both blink although they don’t break eye contact. Kelley’s hand drops self-consciously. She notices how close she’s standing to this stranger, barely a foot between them, and takes a measured step back.

The woman gives Kelley another calculating look, eyes sharp and narrowed dangerously, before taking a step and turning her back on Kelley. She’s still gripping the gloves tightly in one hand.

“We _will_ talk later.” The woman calls over her shoulder.

Kelley blinks after her, shoulders still tight with tension that lasts until a circle of small people surround her. With some effort, she drags her gaze away from the woman stalking away and bends down on one knee to talk to her team.

-

When Ashlyn finally arrives a couple minutes into the first half, the play is still slow. The most action occurs when one of their guys kicks the ball halfway into the woods and it takes a team of five kids to retrieve it. While they dig through the underbrush, Kelley leans over to Ashlyn.

“So one of your soccer moms verbally assaulted me this morning.” Kelley says. Ashlyn glances at her.

“Do tell.” She’s only made it halfway through her recollection when Ashlyn huffs out a laugh.

“Zack’s mom? Hope?” Ashlyn rolls her eyes. “You’ll get used to her.”

“ _Used_ to her? Why would I want to get used to that-”

The referee blows her whistle on one of their players and Ashlyn is on her foot, waving her arms in protest.

None of it makes Kelley feel any better, especially when the glint of a white sweater in the sun catches her eye every few minutes of the first half.

-

By the end of the game, Kelley’s _almost_ forgotten about Hope and her sharp eyes. They win on a couple _crucial_ saves from Zack and a well-placed swing from one of the smaller girls on the team that puts them up a point until the end. At the final whistle, the kids skip off the field toward them for a round of high fives and grins from both Kelley and Ashlyn. As they line up on the edge of the field to shake hands, the parents form a tunnel of lifted arms across the field.

Kelley and Ashlyn stick close to each other as the kids stream from their line to race through the tunnel. After orange slices and drinks, Kelley walks with Ashlyn towards the parking lot, net of soccer balls slung across her back and a Fruit Punch Caprisun in one hand. They stop to talk to couple parents, congratulating their kids and discussing the win.

Ashlyn’s nodding intently while a dad rants about the opposing’s teams illegal maneuvers- if he’s to be believed, surprisingly subtle maneuvers for a bunch of six year olds – when Kelley catches sight of a white sweater and dark hair a few parking spaces down. Hope meets her gaze. They hover there for a moment, Hope tense like she’s about to cross the space, Kelley’s shoulders rolling back slightly in preparation for a confrontation, but then Zack sprints into view. He tugs on Hope’s sleeve, pulling her attention to him, and her face softens. A woman comes up beside Hope, hooks her arm into the crook of Hope’s elbow, and begins to tug her away.

Kelley’s shoulders relax.

When Zack turns to follow Hope’s previous gaze, Kelley is enough at ease to return his friendly wave and even throw in a half-smile. Her hand tightens over the net bag in her hand.

She catches Hope’s eyes just as Hope turns away and her gaze has relaxed into something that almost says: _truce_.

Oddly enough, Kelley finds herself hoping for the opposite.


	2. Chapter 2

A couple weeks pass slowly as the school year shifts into gear, Kelley’s calendar filling with due dates and exams weeks in advance. Grad school imposes less deadlines on her but somehow more work, filling her mornings and afternoons with long hours at her laptop. She’s starts imposing mandatory walks every two hours, dragging Tobin out after her into the sun. They take their longboards every now and then and annoy pedestrians on the sidewalks, Kelley clinging precariously to Tobin’s hoodie as she pushes off to roll them both down the street.

There’s practice twice a week and games on Saturday mornings and the weather stays perfect, leaves beginning to litter the fields. Kelley’s cleats get more of a workout than they have in months. It’s not long before she’s darting out onto the field with the kids, claiming to help with drills when really she just wants to feel the soccer ball at her feet. Ashlyn meanders around the perimeter, watching and commenting and sometimes plopping to the ground behind the goal to coach the keepers. The kids are incredible and weird as hell, telling her the strangest things with the most earnest faces, having to be rounded up and redirected endlessly.

After the first week, the amount of parents lingering throughout practice begins to dwindle, leaving Kelley and Ashlyn some breathing room. Only a stubborn few park themselves on the bleachers each day, glancing up from their iPads periodically to make sure- well, Kelley doesn’t really know what, maybe to ensure Kelley’s not secretly teaching their kids deviant behavior? Ashlyn, old to this coaching biz, tells her it’s the new parents that hang around, too overprotective to leave their little ones to flying balls and cleats.

Hope always shows up for the last five minutes of each practice, her heels pressing into the grass when she walks up to the bleachers in her pressed pantsuit. She stands off to the side, arms crossed. The dirty looks she sends Kelley every afternoon are like clockwork, a five minute warning call sounding in Kelley’s head when Hope’s eyes narrow in the setting sun. For fun, she starts doing goalkeeping drills last, setting up Zack in goal just as Hope’s Range Rover pulls into the parking lot. He waves at Hope with one oversized glove and Kelley turns to hide her smirk.

If Hope is abrasively chilly, Zack is endearingly warm. Kelley’s not sure how the ice queen spawned such a ray of sunshine, but the kid’s always smiling and unfailingly entertaining. He’s certainly a little snarky for a six year old and arrogant to boot, but Kelley’s endeared by the way his eyes twinkle when he makes a bold remark. He’s also the best kid on their team, easily outshining most of them with what seems to be genetic athleticism, and Kelley finds herself encouraging his talent as much as she can. She takes him one-on-one more than a few times and is always impressed with he comes away with the ball or the save.

Hope places a possessive hand on Zack’s shoulder every evening, leading him away to the parking lot, and Kelley catches herself watching them a little too often.

Ashlyn tells her after practice one day that Hope played soccer in college and has been playing with Zack since he was little. Kelley looks at Hope in her expensive pant suit, her watch glinting in the sun, and can’t imagine her in grass-stained socks and a sweaty sports bra- or, sweaty jersey, now or any other time. But something about the statement rings true in Hope’s ease on the grass and the critical way she watches practice.

Kelley waits, but Hope never confronts her again.

-

After their third game and their third win, Ashlyn invites Kelley over for dinner. She tries to construe it as a thank you but Kelley just rolls her eyes, knows there will be wine and the Arsenal game on like usual. Tobin’s got dinner plans somewhere- she’s unfailingly vague about her various social calls- and Kelley drives over to Ali and Ash’s alone, two wine bottles wrapped in paper in the passenger seat.

“Kell!” Ali opens the door with a radiant smile.

“Al!” She gets swept into a hug and Kelley sways a little, tugging Ali side to side. “I brought wine.” Kelley says, lifting it up.

“We will drink it.” Ashlyn says, peeking around the doorframe to the kitchen. Her apron is tied snug around her waist, declaring her the hottest or sweetest chef or something or other- Kelley tries not to read it. She gives her a fake air kiss that Ashlyn returns obnoxiously. Ali trails behind her into the kitchen. Ashlyn turns back to the sauce on the stove while Ali hops up onto the opposite counter and Kelley goes straight for the wine opener.

“I heard your team’s doing awesome.” Ali says.

“Yeah, my superior influence is overwhelming Ashlyn’s subpar coaching.” Kelley says, hands busy with the bottle opener. She jumps when Ashlyn swats her with the dish towel and swallows the impulse to call Ashlyn out on her domestic housewife battle techniques. Ashlyn has enough domesticity issues without Kelley making fun of her for them.

“Actually Kelley’s been dressing up in the uniform and playing for our team.”

“Ha. Ha.” Kelley says and the cork comes out with a satisfying _pop_. Beside her, Ashlyn pours a saucepan of pasta in a colander in the sink, steam rising to the ceiling. Ali leans down pick up the colander and both Ashlyn and Kelley react simultaneously to protect the pasta.

“Whoa, babe.”

“Don’t go near that pasta, Ali, I’d like to eat it tonight” Kelley says, batting Ali’s hands away. Ali just rolls her eyes good naturedly.

“How could I ruin pasta?” She asks, but she’s already leaving the kitchen to turn the tv on, resigned to her kitchen failings.

Ashlyn catches Kelley’s eye and they’re both hiding away a smile. From the living room, the familiar rumble of British soccer announcers fills the apartment.

-

After the game and the pasta and an episode of Broad City, they crack open their third bottle of wine and Kelley resigns herself to crashing on their couch. Ashlyn’s phone is playing music low in the background and she’s stretched out on the ground, Ali curled on the couch beside Kelley.

“So I heard you got into a _rumble_ with one of the moms.” Ali says, her cheeks pink. Kelley rolls her eyes and finishes her sip of wine, preparing to respond when Ashlyn’s voice rises from the ground.

“I’m surprised Kelley’s still standing, actually.” Kelley’s head whips around to look at Ashlyn.

“What? You said I’d get used to her!” Kelley accuses. Ashlyn shrugs from the ground.

“It was your first game, I didn’t want to scare you away.”

“She doesn’t scare me.” Kelley says and it’s about half-true. Kelley’s accusing expression doesn’t fade and Ashlyn relents, a smile breaking across her face.

“Hope’s good people she’s just…a little intense. She actually cornered me after our team meeting and grilled me for like twenty minutes on coaching techniques.”

“ _That_ woman?” Ali turns to Kelley, her eyes now curious. “The _hottest MILF in the greater Bay Area_?” She says, imitating Ashlyn’s slow drawl with a slightly more moronic affect and a healthy dose of sarcasm. She shoots Ashlyn a look. Kelley can just see the bright blush now adorning Ashlyn’s cheeks.

“Seriously?” Kelley laughs at her. Ashlyn sits up, spreads her hands in defense.

“Kelley...“ Ashlyn says seriously, making a bid for her allegiance with suggestive eyes, but Kelley only shakes her head. Ashlyn expression intensifies. Kelley lifts one shoulder.

“I mean…she’s not _bad_ looking.”

“She’s not bad looking.” Ashlyn repeats flatly. “The woman you’ve spent the past two weeks staring at from across the field is not _bad looking_.” Kelley can feel the blush sweep across her cheeks. She’s suddenly looking anywhere but Ali and Ashlyn.

“I’m not staring, I’m challenging.”

“Yeah, challenging her to-“

“Ashlyn.” Ali chides, cutting her off. “If Kelley wants to play hard to get, that’s her decision.”

“I’m not- she’s like thirty.” Kelley splutters.

“She’s twenty-seven.”

“She’s one of the _moms_.”

Ashlyn just shrugs. Ali’s hand lands on Kelley’s elbow, a little less coordinated than it would be usually, and Kelley turns toward her.

“Follow your dreams.” Ali says, her cheeks so pink and her eyes so bright and warm that she _almost_ gets away with it. She looks like a goddamn angel-fairy in yoga pants and an oversized sweatshirt, wine glass tipping in her hand, and both Ashlyn and Kelley burst into laughter.

Ashlyn drops the subject, but it’s another ten minutes before the warmth on Kelley’s cheeks begins to subside.

-

At their next practice, Kelley turns to face the setting sun, squinting into the direct sunlight rather than facing the bleachers. She holds one arm up to shield her eyes.

Ashlyn raises her eyebrow.

Kelley sticks her tongue out at her, but does it demurely.

She can practically feel Hope’s eyes burning a hole into her back.

-

Their fourth match is foggy and damp. The sun shines wet and dim into the cool morning, diffusing across the grass. Kelley can barely see the parking lot through the fog that surrounds the field, hovering off the ground and unmoving. The kids are sleepy and leaning into each other in their drill lines until one inevitably gets annoyed and starts shoving. Kelley and Ashlyn have them line up along the end line and dance back and forth along their half of the field under the guise of warming up.

The opposing team seems taller than the rest of the teams they’ve played and the game turns competitive quickly. It becomes difficult to discern whether the kids are slipping in the wet grass or being caught at the ankles. More than once, Ashlyn hobbles to the edge of the field to wave dramatically at the referee while Kelley ignores her and calls out to the kids.

It’s midway through the second half and still 0-0 when one kid breaks away from the pack to make a break for their goal. Zack is playing midfield and he goes racing after the player, looking fiercely determined in the face of the threat. The kid takes one far too long touch and Zack is sprinting with his tiny legs pumping to take a huge swing at the ball with his right foot. He connects, the ball flying out of bounds. Two seconds later, amidst the cheers of their parents, the opposing player catches Zack’s ankles with his cleat and sends him flying.

Zack goes down _hard_ from a tackle, a bruising impact that makes Kelley wince immediately, and after a moment of stunned silence, he bursts into tears. Kelley’s jogging before she has a conscious thought. She’s not sure who gets there first, her or Hope, but they both dash across the grass to him before the referee’s even blown her whistle to stop play. Zack is squinting at them, his face bright red with tear tracks along his cheeks, his hands protecting his right knee.

Hope feels his ankle, his arm, searching for breaks or bruises, and finally peels his hands away to reveal a bloody scrape on his knee. Kelley has one hand on his shoulder, squeezing comfortingly, and he’s stopped crying. In fact, he’s glaring resentfully at the kid on the other team who tripped him. The kid looks gobsmacked but defensive, and the murderous look in Zack’s eyes is strangely familiar. It’d almost be cute if Zack didn’t look so unhappy.

“Whoa, dude, I didn’t know you could fly.” Kelley says to distract him. He turns to her accusingly.

“I didn’t fly.” He argues. “I fell.”

“Well, it looked like flying from over there.” Kelley says, straightening out his jersey and resisting the urge to wipe the tears off his face. Hope is stretching his knee out, checking for injury, and the referee is hovering behind them, waiting.

“Nu-uh.” Zack says, wiping at his nose, but he’s eyeing her curiously.

“Looked like you were going to fly out of bounds just like that ball you kicked.” Kelley adds, and a smile creeps onto Zack’s face. His eyes shift and change, lighting up a little, and he wriggles away from her and Hope’s touch.

“Did not.” He says, but he’s smiling now.

“You did a good job, buddy.” Kelley says. It’s not until then that she notices how close she and Hope are to each other, shoulders almost touching as they squat beside Zack. Hope shifts to stand and Kelley has to move as well to avoid being knocked over. Hope leans down and lifts Zack effortlessly into her arms and when she looks at Kelley, something in her eyes has changed.

“Thanks.” She says simply, blue eyes piercing. She carries him to the end of their bench amidst golf claps from the spectators and Kelley follows mindlessly, turning at the last moment to take her spot next to Ashlyn at the other end of the bench. Ashlyn, to her credit, doesn’t say anything.

-

After that, Hope isn’t exactly _nice_ but there’s no more glaring from behind her sunglasses across the field every afternoon. She nods as she leads Zack away and every now and then Kelley catches the hint of a smile.

Kelley gets the idea that Hope is never nice, anyway.

-

They pull off another win at their next match to stretch their streak to five. The kids are stoked about how good they are and Kelley catches them making up celebratory dances after the game, a mishmash of dance moves that look like disco twerking. Zack is laughing at them but he breaks out a couple moves to tack onto the routine.

Hope’s scheduled to bring the snacks and she’s made the rounds with the kids, each of them munching on apple slices. She looks _way_ too good in dark jeans and a tan pea coat hanging open, earrings glinting at her ears, but she’s disappeared for the moment, thank god. Kelley wonders again what she does for work, but she refuses to ask Ashlyn and suffer the teasing glint in her eyes.

Kelley turns to go find Ashlyn and- _speak of the devil_ -comes face to face with Hope, a deep Tupperware dish half-full of sliced apples held out in her hands. Kelley stares stupidly at the apples for a moment, then drags her eyes up to Hope’s face. She’s watching Kelley intently, half a smirk quirking at the corner of her mouth. She moves the apples forward another inch.

“Apple?” She asks.

“Sure.” Kelley say, already reaching forward before she hesitates. “Aren’t these for the kids?” She asks, sneaking a look around to see if any other adults are partaking.

“From what I can tell, you basically _are_ one of the kids.” Hope says without any bite, the smirk blooming into a smile. In fact, her eyes are sparkling with amusement. They’re less piercing when she’s smiling but no easier to look away from. Kelley feigns insult, ignoring how her heart rate has picked up.

“Just because I’m not _ancient_ doesn’t mean I’m a child.” Kelley says, plucking an apple slice from the tub and raising her eyebrows. Hope reels slightly back, the movement exaggerated.

“Ancient? Who are you calling ancient?”

“If the mom jeans fit.” Kelley says, gesturing with half an apple slice to Hope’s most definitely _not_ mom jeans. Hope’s eyes narrow.

“You’re not very good at first impressions, are you?” Hope says, the amusement still shining though.

“Not at all.” Kelley agrees. “Although I could say the same for you. I distinctly remember some choice words from you, and was there a threat or…“ Hope shifts the Tupperware to one hand and wipes the other on her jeans before offering it to Kelley.

“Let’s start over.” Kelley takes her hand and an honest-to-god jolt sparks in her stomach. “I’m Hope. Nice to meet you.” Her eyes are piercing again, her palm warm.

“Kelley. Mucho gusto.” Kelley says, still gripping Hope’s hand, wondering if her heart beat will every go back to normal. “So, your son’s pretty great.”

“I’d like to think so.” Hope says, finally pulling her hand back as she turns to catch sight of Zack. He’s dancing again, a really strange half-twerk that’s actually got some rhythm behind it.

“Did he get those moves from you or…” Hope shoots her a half-assed _stop_ look, failing to disguise the laughter behind it.

“Actually, I get my moves from him.” Across the field, a woman with dark hair and deeply tanned skin is waving to Hope, who nods back. “See you next week at practice?” Hope says, half-turning towards Kelley. Kelley smiles.

“See you at practice.” She echoes. Hope crosses the field to collect Zack and a moment later Ashlyn is at Kelley’s side and obnoxiously yet somehow subtly elbowing her. Kelley bats her hands away, but the truth is her heart beat still feels out of wack. She glances up in time to see Hope walking away with the other woman, Zack between them.

-

Kelley’s sitting cross-legged on her living room floor with half a glass of wine. It’s quiet, late September, and the wood is cool beneath her legs. She readjusts, shifting one leg out and leaning down closer to her papers. Her latest assignment is spread out all around her, books and rough drafts and copies of articles circled around her in an array of half-organized mess. A Ray Lamontagne record plays through the speakers, music drifting out of their open window.

Tobin’s in her room with the door open, slivers of discarded paper fluttering into the hallway. Her latest medium is paper cutting and she crouches over the thick cardstock with various knives, slicing out designs laboriously. Kelley’s tapping her pen rhythmically against her bottom lip when her phone buzzes on the floor. There’s few seconds of her phone clattering against the wood before she digs it out from under an earlier rough draft.

The number’s unfamiliar, but the area code is her city. She swipes it open. At the top of the screen sits a single grey box.

_Hey. It’s Hope, Zack’s mom._

The words make Kelley’s heart seize. She lets the phone drop farther away, the pulls it back up, examining the words. Hope. A tiny smile has appeared on her face without her noticing.

She waits a moment, then responds.

_Hey! What’s up?_

Lame, of course, but safe. Little dots blink and Hope’s answer slides into existence.

_Just wondering if we’ll be having practice on Thursday since the kids are out of school._

Kelley’s pretty sure she told Hope yesterday that practice would be moved to Friday. She tilts her head, trying to remember the exact conversation, but she’s still a mess of nerves and adrenaline whenever she talks to Hope and the details fade away.

_Switching it over to Friday instead._

Kelley texts back. Her paper is forgotten on the living room floor and she leans back into the couch, stretching her legs out and crossing her ankles.

_Great, because I’m taking Zack up to the zoo for the day._

_No way! I’m jealous._

_I’ll be sure to say hello to your family while I’m there._

_My family…?_

_The monkeys. I’m sure they miss you._

Kelley sends her an eye roll emoji, picturing Hope’s smile in her head. They keep texting, eventually swinging around to the context of Hope’s visit, the zoo just down the street from Zack’s grandmother’s neighborhood. Kelley’s grinning at her phone when Tobin slips into the living room in her slippers. She eyes Kelley over her glasses.

Belatedly, Kelley lowers the phone to her lap.

Tobin doesn’t say anything, just maneuvers her way around Kelley’s mess on the floor and slides into the kitchen to put the kettle on.

It’s exactly why Kelley loves her roommate.

-

Friday rolls around cool and grey and the late afternoon turns dreary. The leaves in the trees around the practice field are turning orange and brown. They tumble across the parking lot, whipped along by an unseasonably cold breeze. Zack is tugging impatiently on Hope’s arm, trying to hurry her to the car, but Hope is dragging her feet. Whether it’s because she wants to keep talking to Kelley or she’s just trying to annoy Zack, Kelley’s not sure.

“So Zack decided the only way to get his hat back was to climb _into_ the flamingo exhibit.” Hope shoots her son a look. “And that’s why he’s banned from the zoo.” Zack shrugs dramatically, pulling his hand out of Hope’s and darting ahead. Kelley slows her feet against the cracked cement of the parking lot, following Hope to her familiar Range Rover with the balls slung over her shoulder.

“I didn’t even know they made squirrel hats. You really can’t blame him.” Kelley says, trying to fight the grin on her face. They hesitate by Hope’s bumper. Zack’s investigating a pine cone by her back tire and Kelley turns fully to face Hope. She catches herself just gazing into Hope’s eyes for a second.

She blinks and looks out at the soccer field, now empty and bare as the last rays of the sun disappear. When she looks back, Hope is still watching her face carefully, twisting her keys about in one hand.

“I better-“ Kelley says, only somewhat awkwardly, and gestures back to where she thinks her car probably is.

“Yeah.” Hope says, not really moving. “See you tomorrow.” (Kelley kind of likes the sound of that more than she can admit).

“Drive safe.” Kelley says, and finds herself walking backwards so that she can keep her eyes on Hope. In her defense, Hope is hanging back by her bumper, watching Kelley leave.

“You too.” She says, and then she’s turning and guiding Zack up and into the car.

Kelley rotates around, keeping a careful hold on the soccer balls, and finally lets the stupid smile she’s been hiding spill out across her face.


	3. Chapter 3

Kelley’s sleepily eating a bowl of cereal at the kitchen counter, just trying to make sure most of the cereal actually makes it in her mouth, when Tobin stops in front of her. It’s Saturday morning, early, and the smell of coffee brewing on the counter is slowly forcing her into functionality.

“Have you ever thought about coaching? Like as a career?” Tobin asks bluntly. Kelley’s spoon stops halfway to her mouth.

Her bag of soccer balls is leaning by the front door, her clipboard beside her on the counter. Her phone lays open on the other side displaying the conversation she had with Ashlyn last night about who was starting. Even in her sleepy haze, she’s half already on the field, coaching her team.

She blinks up at Tobin and lowers her spoon.

“Nope.” She confesses. Tobin gives her notes a quick glance, then shrugs.

“Maybe you should.”

-

The game before their own is running late and her team sits in a lopsided circle at the side of the filed, watching a mass of kids chase the ball up and down the lines until they collide into tight circles of kicking feet. Ashlyn hovers above them on her crutches, unwilling to get down when she’s not sure if she could get back up.

Kelley tugs at the grass beside her, bored.

There’s a flash of color and speed in the corner of her eye and Zack and Colin come sprinting along the side of the field to tumble into their little group.

“Sorry we’re late.” Zack says, sounding vaguely like he’s reciting a quote.

“We got doughnuts!” Colin exclaims, and Zack gives him a scandalized look. Kelley rolls her eyes.

“Where’s my doughnut, man?” She nudges Zack with her shoulder and he blushes.

“We ate it.” Kelley just laughs. She holds out her fist and Zack’s eyes light up. The kid’s obsessed with secret handshakes currently and he and Kelley have an intricate one that’s a bit difficult to pull off sitting down. They manage anyway, improvising the dancing bits. They finish by lifting their feet from the grass and stretching so that’s Zack’t tiny cleat taps the bottom of Kelley’s tennis shoe. Kelley’s actually pretty proud of how complex the whole thing is.

Still laughing, she looks up and she meets Hope’s eyes from across the field. She’s standing in front of the stands, holding a Gatorade bottle in one hand and watching Kelley and Zack.

Kelley waves in greeting. Hope nods back.

Kelley imagines that she can see a smile beginning in her eyes from here.

(It’s gotta be a trick of light; Hope’s eyes can’t possibly be that brilliant.)

-

A couple weeks and practices and a single loss to blemish their otherwise perfect record later, Ashlyn calls Kelley while she’s watching the _Good Wife_. Kelley’s illuminated by the colored flickering of the television, the images darting across her face and playing in the lenses of her glasses while she sips a cup of chai tea.

She answers the phone with one hand, struggling to set her mug down and reach the remote with the other.

“Hey, are you free tonight?” Ashlyn says. “Hope’s barbecuing, she told me to give you a ring.” Kelley sits up straight.

“Yeah, I’m free.” She says, attempting for neutral. Ashlyn chuckles.

“Yeah, you are.”

“Shut up.” Kelley rolls her eyes, standing up. She glances down at her sweatpants and long-sleeve tee.

“We’ll come pick you in an hour.”

“Sounds good.” Kelley drops her phone back to the couch as Ashlyn says goodbye and heads to her bedroom, trying to deny the tiny thrill she has at the idea that she’ll be seeing Hope tonight and the weird feeling she gets from knowing Hope could have just texted _her_ and didn’t.

Hope texts her rarely and it’s always about soccer, which is- fine. It’s fine. Because Kelley’s coaching her son and they’re acquaintances who can hold a conversation and it’s nice to have a friendly face in the stands now, and not a vaguely grumpy one glaring through her sunglasses.

It’s fine.

But it’s also sort of true that Kelley picks up her phone and taps until she has Hope’s messages open and stares at the blank box for a few seconds before hitting the home button. She could text her. They’re halfway to friends anyway and it wouldn’t take much to make it official. But Hope is reserved and walled off and hesitant, which wouldn’t usually discourage Kelley but inexplicably does. Hope is different. It’s a dangerous thing to admit to herself. Hope occupies some singular space in her head, a place untouched by the regular habits and exchanges of her friendships.

Hope is someone to consider, and carefully, and Kelley has been cautious.

There’s a conclusion looming over her, one about the crush she may-or-may-not have Hope and exactly what it means to her, but she’s putting it off for as long as she possibly can. It feels dangerous.

-

Ashlyn and Ali pick her up in Ashlyn’s Jeep, bumping some obscure dance music that floats up through the window of Kelley’s apartment. Kelley hears them before Ashlyn even texts her and swings her bag over her head, twirling her keys in one hand. She darts down the stairs, tucking her keys away into her bag, and lets the front door swing shut behind her. When Kelley hops into the backseat, Ali reaches back to hand her a Solo cup full of something sweet and alcoholic in greeting. Kelley sips slowly as they drive.

They park a block away from the house and walk in the early dark, the moon throwing the trees into shadows and illuminating the line of cars leading away from Hope’s. It’s cool outside but the early October weather is forgiving, a soft wind brushing around them in long strokes.

Hope’s house is small and unassuming with a sweet, small white porch containing a swing hanging from the rafters. Her house is also absolutely brimming with people, a few spilling outside to sit on the edge of the porch in the yellow lights and voices rumbling down the driveway from the backyard. When Ashlyn pushes the half-cracked front door open, Kelley has to wind her way through handfuls of people to follow her, everyone talking and waving like a huge extended family of people who all know seem to know each other. It’s got the friendliness of a college party but the chill of a graduate party and kids dart between the adults, playing tag and chasing a big, old golden retriever whose tail is wagging furiously. Ashlyn and Ali stop to say hello to a few people, introducing Kelley and slowly making their way to the kitchen. Kelley thinks about Hope’s cold eyes and the aggressive sway of her walk in this crowd, but then she thinks about Zack and his friendly grin, and it’s all jumbled in her head into something that should make sense but doesn’t.

The kitchen is probably the most crowded part of the house, but the people part when they cram in and just past the chopping block in the center, in an apron and boots, handing off a silver tray of chicken to someone and reaching behind her to pick up her beer, is Hope. She spots them just as Kelley spots her and for a moment, there’s a bright smile that stretches across her face like a sunset. Just as quickly, it’s fading away to neutral happiness, her face crinkling with comfort Kelley hasn’t seen there before. Hope starts across the kitchen to them and Kelley takes a step forward to meet her.

“Hey.” Hope says, the smile still evident in her voice if no longer on her face. She’s reaching forward and before Kelley knows what’s happening Hope’s actually _hugging_ her and she smells sweet, like perfume and barbecue sauce and cider, and Kelley leans up on her tiptoes to return it. Hope is warm, familiar when she shouldn’t be, and she pulls Kelley in close.

Kelley distinctly thinks _oh no_.

When she pulls back, Zack is dashing around them, darting from Ashlyn to Ali to say hello, before running up to Kelley’s side and wrapping both of his arms around her legs.

“Hi.” Kelley says, her eyes still on Hope. Zack squeezes tight and Hope is still looking at her, everything in her eyes saying _hello,_ and Kelley reaches down to let her hand fall on Zack’s head and smiles back.

Zack pulls away and lifts up a fist to her, his eyes twinkling with mischief. Kelley feels her cheeks flush but she keeps her eyes on Zack and they perform their secret handshake with flair, sound effects and dance included. When they finish, Ashlyn gives them a slow clap.

Hope holds out a bottle of cider to Kelley as she moves around her to meet Ali, and her eyes are glittering like crystal, and Kelley feels that same conclusion rushing towards her through the night.

-

Outside, there’s a thick, round circle of stone holding a blazing fire. Sparks dance up out of the flames and into the sky. Kelley wanders over, taking slow pulls from her cider, one hand tucked into her back pocket. She’s lost Ali and Ashlyn but isn’t really concerned about it. It’s a small house. As long as it’s not a repeat of New Year’s Eve 2012, they’ll turn up.

She’s taken up an empty section of the brick when someone stops beside her. Kelley catches a glimpse of a wonderfully strange green and black sweater and shifts a little to get a better view.

“Hey. I’m Ralph.” There’s a hand in Kelley’s face and Kelley follows it up to a harmless looking guy in thick, fashionably awkward glasses, his hair pulled back from his forehead with a least a handful of product.

“Kelley.” She says, and takes his hand.

“I work with Hope.” He says, nodding back towards the house. The fire’s dancing off his glasses and Kelley can’t quite see his eyes.

“Oh, cool! Where do you work?” Kelley asks, kind of off-put by Ralph but unwilling to give up this opportunity.

“We work for Briarwood.” Kelley tilts her head and he elaborates. “It’s a residential treatment facility for kids- teenagers, mostly, with psych or emotional issues. We’re both social workers there.” He finishes and takes another long sip of his beer, then turns to her again. “How do you know Hope?”

Kelley’s trying unsuccessfully to process the information she’s just gotten, but she manages an answer on autopilot.

“I coach her son in soccer.” She says.

“Oh, sweet. I used to play soccer in college.” He goes off on a tangent about the U.S. men’s team and Kelley answers mostly on autopilot, if she’s honest, too busy thinking about Hope to really pay attention. She realizes she’s being a little rude just as he nods to her and says he’ll catch her later before disappearing. _Not a huge loss_ , she rationalizes, even as she feels slightly guilty for her distraction.

Ali and Ashlyn find her a few minutes later and she’s willingly dragged off to the beer pong table in the garage. In the driveway, cars have been moved to let the kids play bags on the cement, and they hit the farther cars more often than the wooden frames or the ground. Kelley ends up on Ashlyn’s team because Ali’s driving, but they lose miserably to two guys who look like they have kegs stored under their sweatshirts.

At one point, Kelley catches sight of Hope leaning against the doorway, arms folded across her chest. Her apron is gone and she’s got one knee-high boot tucked behind the other. Her eyes are sharp again, taking everything in and parsing it, and Kelley distracted before their gazes can meet, the boys reminding her that she’s got a game to lose.

When she looks back Hope has, predictably, disappeared.

-

By the end of the evening, Kelley’s passed Hope no less than five times and been intercepted each time by another guest, a call for a beer, or- once, memorably - by a piece of chicken on fire in the grass in the backyard. Kelley’s retrieving her third cider from the ice chest in the kitchen, which is emptied out save two people snacking on grilled veggies. The party may have been a bit raucous, but it’s ending early enough, the house almost emptied out.

She steps into the living room, dodging a cat that winds through her legs to get to the kitchen, and having to perform a bit of acrobatics to pull off not injuring the cat. There’s a quiet chuckle and when she looks up, Hope is laughing at her from the couch.

At the sight of her, something in Kelley’s chest softens. She takes another careful, irreversible step towards her conclusion.

Hope is sitting in the middle of the couch, Zack asleep with his head in her lap. She’s stroking her fingers gently across his scalp, soothing him. The room is otherwise empty. And she’s smiling at Kelley, her eyes warm. Kelley makes her way to the couch. She sits gently beside Hope, trying not to wake Zack, and leans back against the arm rest.

“Don’t let Captain Sully intimidate you, if you ignore him he’ll get out of your way.” Hope says, glancing toward where the cat had disappeared.

“I didn’t want to kill your cat.” Kelley takes a sip from her cider, ignoring how close they are on this small couch. The alcohol runs through her veins, tempting her when Hope’s shoulder bumps into her own. Hope implies that she actually did want to kill her cat and that leads them into a fiery, yet whispered argument on the age old cats v. dogs debate. Kelley feels that Hope, having one of each, should see the dog’s superiority, but Hope remains annoyingly neutral. They veer off into more zoo stories and somehow Kelley ends up telling the story about her and a park squirrel when she was seven and then an hour’s gone by, quiet and warm and just between them.

The conversation fades, Hope’s smile still bringing out her laugh lines. Kelley’s closer now, somehow, their thighs pressed together.

“How was your night?” Hope asks quietly, like they hadn’t been catching each other’s eye from across the room all evening. Kelley props her elbow against the back of the couch and leans her head against her hand.

“Pretty great. You throw a good party.”

“My friends like to have fun.” Hope deflects. “Even now that we’re all old and- parents.”

“Looks like Zack had too much fun.” Kelley looks down at the kid, who’s now softly snoring in Hope’s lap. She likes the way Hope is with him, honest and gentle and on his side. She thinks briefly about Hope working with kids all the time and how hard it must be. Hope just smiles.

“He has no off switch. Trust me, I’ve looked.” She rolls her eyes. There’s a loud burst of laughter from outside, where everyone has gathered around the fire, and Hope’s fingers resume their gentle pattern on Zack’s head.

“I should put him to bed.” Hope says. She watches Kelley steadily, her eyes always sharp and aimed at Kelley once again. She hesitates, then asks, “Want to give me a hand?”

Kelley knows a branch when she sees it, and she takes this one.

“Definitely.” She stands up and sets her bottle down on the coffee table. “You get the hands, I’ll get the feet.” Hope laughs softly and just rolls her eyes. She cradles Zack’s head so she can stand and turns and lifts him into her arms, practiced and effortless. When she leads the way down the hall, Kelley follows, their footsteps quiet on the wood floors. Hope is barefoot, painted toes at the end of her skinny jeans, and soft in the quiet of her house.

She reaches a door at the end of the hall and nods to it, arms full. Kelley reaches forward and turns the handle. It’s Hope’s bedroom, maroon and mahogany, pictures all over the place. Kelley hangs by the doorway, trying not to infringe on Hope’s privacy. Instead, she leans into the doorframe and watches Hope with Zack, the careful way she sets him into the bed and tugs his shoes off.

Kelley wants to help, but she’s not sure she’s been invited in, and she doesn’t want to impose. Not with Hope, who is all half-sharp angles and fierce protection of her people.

When she’s done, Hope leans over and clicks off the bedside lamp, shrouding the room in darkness. Kelley’s eyes adjust to the shadows and she watches Hope pad across the carpet to the door, Kelley’s quiet words getting stuck in her throat.

Carefully, she eases back out of the doorway, but the hallway is small and Hope still leans too close when she reaches back to shut the door. The knob clicks shut and Hope is six inches from Kelley, so close Kelley can look up and see the curve of each eyelash. They look at each other for a moment, half an admission, and then Hope’s mouth curves into a smile. Kelley’s eyes are forced downward to her lips and that’s a mistake- she takes a half step back but there’s only wall behind her.

“Outside?” Hope asks, saving Kelley from herself, and Kelley nods.

On the way through the living room, she snags her bottle again and takes a long swig, shamelessly watching the swing of Hope’s hips as she leads the way through her house.

-

They rejoin the group, but it’s too loud and intoxicated for Kelley, who’d become used to quiet ease of her and Hope and sleeping Zack. Ashlyn gives her a hell of a look when she walks outside behind Hope, but she figures she can avoid that conversation until tomorrow, maybe.

She keeps catching Hope’s gaze from across the fire pit, and she’d call it accidental except that’s where her eyes seem to stray whenever she’s not being mindful of them. Hope’s face is lit up in the orange glow of the flames and her eyes are dark. She looks beautiful.

It’s not until she catches Kelley looking again and Kelley winks at her, creepy and brash and mostly just to make Hope laugh, which she does, that Kelley blushes and that conclusion that felt heavy and doomed and dangerous seeps in like a sigh.

It’s not so scary after all, when Hope seems just as interested.

-

The next morning, last night feels vague and warm and already like one of those nights she’ll set as a bar for every other one. It’s Saturday but it’s their by-week and she lays in bed all morning on her phone, watching videos on youtube and laughing until Tobin’s annoyed enough to get up and come watch them with her, their heads on the same pillow.

Around ten, a notification interrupts one video and Hope’s name slides down from the top of her screen. Kelley pulls it down without thinking and they both read it:

_Glad you came over last night. Couldn’t have put that fire out without you._

Kelley knows what she means, of course, but Tobin definitely doesn’t and before she can even defend herself, Tobin bursts into laughter.

“It’s not-“ Kelley starts.

“Her _fire_ out? Kelley, I expected better from you.” Tobin’s almost rolling off the bed anyway so Kelley doesn’t feel so bad when she sticks her foot into Tobin’s back and pushes her hard enough that she rolls onto the floor. “You’re not supposed to put it out, Kelley.” Tobin calls from the ground.

“What would you know about that.” Kelley grumbles, rolling over to type a reply before deciding to wait. She rolls back to the opposite side of the bed and stares down at Tobin. When Tobin opens her mouth again, eyes bright with something, Kelley plays her ace. “By the way, who’s Alex?” She asks innocently.

Tobin’s mouth snaps shut.

-

It’s not until later that night when they’re eating Mexican with Caitlin that Tobin brings it up again, knowing she’s safe from retaliation with Caitlin to back her up. She waits until their halfway through their fish bowl margaritas to drop the info and Kelley tries to bury her face in hers to avoid the conversation.

“It was just the mom of one of the kids I coach.” Kelley finally protests.

Somehow, it doesn’t work as an excuse, and Tobin’s eyes only widen.

“Kelley. That’s a terrible idea.” Tobin says, which is something she’s said quite a bit in the past and has probably never dissuaded Kelley from anything.

“Isn’t that, like…illegal?” Caitlin asks, frowning when both Tobin and Kelley laugh at her. “What! There’s like, child safety or- er, something.” Caitlin’s face is an appealing shade of red.

“It’s not illegal.” Kelley says, damning herself. Tobin and Caitlin give her wide, amused eyes that Kelley can only shrug to, trying to disappear into her drink.

The truth of it is, Kelley knows. She _knows_ it’s terrible idea. It would end awkwardly, it would spread like wildfire through the moms, it probably is illegal, somewhere, or at least frowned upon, but the truth of it is, it’s not even really on the table right now. She can barely admit it to herself, much less do anything about it. It’s a terrible idea and she’ll keep it that way, for now. Just an idea, albeit a thrilling, intoxicating one.

They go out after dinner, the streets crowded on a Saturday night, and play pool in three different bars. Kelley gets hit on in all of them, by boys and girls alike, and she smiles and talks but her heart’s not in it. She takes one number, a girl with strawberry blonde hair and tattoos on her forearms, but she leaves with Caitlin at the end of the night wondering what, exactly, is wrong with her.

-

A week later, Kelley’s making coffee in her socks, her phone playing music quietly on the counter. The game is later in the morning and she’s thinking about making breakfast when her music stops and her phone buzzes angrily. She looks and can only stare at Hope’s name on her screen.

Finally, she reaches down and slides to answer it.

“Hello?” She says, busying herself with the coffee.

“Hey, Kelley.” Hope’s voice is familiar but strange through the phone, though Kelley saw her two days ago after practice. She had walked her halfway to her car, trying to talk and not smile like an idiot the whole time. “I was wondering if you could do me a favor.”

“Yeah, what’s up?” Kelley hits the start button and backs up until she can hop onto her counter.

“My car broke down this morning, think you could give me and a Zack a ride to the game? I don’t know if we’re on the way but I’d be really grateful.” Hope sounds vaguely annoyed, though obviously not at Kelley, and Kelley agrees without thinking twice about. A minute later they’re saying goodbye, brief and almost awkward, and as Kelley slides off the counter, her phone dings with Hope’s address.

-

Kelley shows up at Hope’s house a full hour before the game and parks in the driveway. She’s takes the steps in two quick jumps and knocks on the door before she can get any more nervous about it.

Hope swings open the door a moment later.

“Hey, we’re almost ready.” Hope says just as Zack comes around the corner, one sock on and his jersey backwards and halfway over his head. “Okay, we’re getting there.” Hope amends, still frazzled and striding over to help Zack free himself from the tangle of material. She’s makeup-less and bare foot, again, and the house phone starts to ring. She groans. “That would be the tow truck drivers.”

“Here, I’ll help Zack get ready, you deal with them.” Kelley says, stepping inside and shutting the door behind her. Hope looks at her.

“Are you sure?” She says, glancing over at Zack, who looks half-asleep still, pillow creases in his dark skin.

“Yeah, I’ve put on my fair share of soccer uniforms.” Kelley says, trying to make her smile reassuring

“Thank you.” Hope says, before disappearing after the ringing phone. Kelley turns to Zack.

“Alright, dude, first thing’s gonna be-“

“Handshake!” Zack interrupts.

“Handshake, duh.” Kelley agrees, but she’s eyeing the single sock that’s barely over Zack’s ankle.

It takes another twenty minutes of hunting down a lost shin guard and finding the _lucky_ arm band before they’re finally dressed and lucky and ready. Zack is awake by then and he and Kelley are carefully nudging a ball back and forth on the floor in the front hall when Hope walks through the doorway. She’s putting earrings in and though both Zack and Kelley look up at her, her eyes find Kelley’s.

“Thank you.” She says again, and the tension is out of her shoulders and she’s just staring at Kelley like she’s never seen her before.

“No problem.” Kelley says, then tilts her head. “There’s coffee in the kitchen.”

“You are something else.” Hope says, eyes suddenly past grateful and something much more tempting and deep. She gives a slight shake of her head and disappears through the door to the kitchen.

A few minutes later they’re finally on their way, Hope with a bag slung over her shoulder and Kelley holding the soccer ball in one arm. Their hands brush as they walk to the car, too close together while Zack hurries to keep up beside Kelley, and Hope glances at her.

It’d be easier if this was all terrible and impossible and heavy, but Hope’s looking at her like she means it, like she’s got ideas of her own, and Kelley feels like impossible is rapidly shrinking to eventual.


	4. Chapter 4

Hope starts snapchatting her videos of Zack showing off new dance moves and trying to rainbow a soccer ball in their back yard and things he learned in school, and sometimes he’s waving and calling “ _hey Kelley_!” with that ten thousand dollar smile and Kelley’s heart melts effortlessly and easily behind her ribs. Like the sweetest acquiescence to this kid whose eyes light up when he sees her, who has the funniest sense of humor and the simplest air of confidence. He sucks Kelley in and before she knows it she’s got the craziest affection for this six year old that she never saw coming. 

Sometimes the snapchats end with Hope’s face, incredulous and adoring and amused all at the same time. She’s always tangibly happy (something in her eyes, quiet but _content_ ), even if she’s obviously tired and sprawled on the couch, her hair thrown into a quick bun and circles beneath her eyes. 

Kelley catches herself smiling at her phone screen by the end of them. She’s stupidly charmed by the two of them and their little house, their life filled easily with love. 

She begins to miss them after a couple days apart. She misses their ongoing banter, the easy warmth between them. The way they both tease her like they’ve practiced their act beforehand, finishing each other’s sentences and always taking each other’s side. She doesn’t think Hope knows exactly how much of a team they are, the way Zack imitates her narrowed eyes and has her laugh. But the days between practices seem longer and longer and more than once she contemplates inviting them somewhere, just to see them. 

She sits in front of her textbooks on a Tuesday night trying to finish a paper and failing miserably; instead, she watches Zack laugh on Hope’s snapchat story over and over again, a glimpse of Hope’s face at the end, grinning and _beautiful_ , so pretty that Kelley knows she’s done for. 

She takes a quick selfie of her face, her eyes crossed and her mouth twisted into a grimace, and captions it: _studying_. 

She hits send and barely a moment later her phone dings with a snap from Hope. She presses down and Hope and Zack’s faces appear, both twisted into ridiculous faces, Zack’s especially gross, and Kelley laughs. She screenshots it before it can disappear. 

A second later, she gets a text from Hope. _Delete that or die_. 

_Never!_ Kelley sends back, and it’s only then that she notices the grin on her own face. 

\- 

She has coffee with Hope in the city one morning when the leaves are whipped along the sidewalk with fury, tiny little whirls of foliage. It’s more of an accident than anything else, a snapchat of a familiar coffee mug in a familiar café just down the street, and Kelley rings Hope from her apartment after it blinks out of existence. Hope answers, her voice clear among the muffled clang and clamor of the coffee shop, and Kelley says: 

“I know that café.” 

“Do you?” She sounds amused, and at ease, and Kelley wonders when they became this familiar with each other. 

“In fact, I can see it from my apartment.” Kelley says, presumptively twirling her key ring through her fingers, her sock feet nudging the boots by the door. 

“Well, come join me.” Hope says, less of an invitation and more of an order. Kelley dips one toe into a boot. 

“Be there in a minute.” She promises. It takes her two minutes to shrug on her coat and lock the door behind her, and outside she doesn’t even feel the cold, too focused on what lies a block ahead. Hope is nestled in a corner table, her laptop open in front of her, a crisp white mug at her left hand. 

When she spots Kelley, her eyes crinkle with her smile and Kelley think _this woman_. 

\- 

Kelley looks forward to practices more than she probably should. The weather’s getting too cold to be comfortable and Kelley hides behind Ashlyn at practices, letting her block the wind. Ashlyn plays the part with her usual charisma, bulking up and lifting her arms to keep Kelley shielded. 

Hope starts sitting through the whole practice, even in the cold, her Kindle in her hands though she spends most her time watching Zack or Kelley. Kelley only knows Hope is watching her because she’s watching Hope and their eyes meet every now and again, usually when Kelley’s done something embarrassing and she’s checking to see if Hope’s noticed. 

Hope stays through the wind and the clouds, even though Zack rolls his eyes and says _mom_ , and she always lets Kelley walk them to her car, their shoulders brushing on the way. 

\- 

Saturday’s game is rainy and miserable. Kelley know she looks like a drowned rat by the end of it, even when the green hood of her rain jacket over her head, and the kids are covered head to toe in splattered mud. They look a little fierce, actually, the mud painting brown designs across their face like war paint. Zack has streaked his fingers through the mud on his cheeks, the dirt drying clay brown on his dark skin. He comes after Kelley with both hands covered and she jumps back, trying to hold back a yelp and failing. 

Hope meets them on the other side of the mud, looking pristine beneath her huge black umbrella, and Kelley looks up at her from beneath wet eyelashes and the dripping hood of her rain jacket, a few strands of hair stuck to the side of her face. Zack is back off with his teammates and Kelley should probably stop them before they start another mud war, but Hope is holding out a hand. 

“I brought this for Zack, but you look way more pathetic.” She’s offering Kelley a thick, soft towel. 

“Thank you?” Kelley answers, but she’s already burying her face in the towel, drying off the rain, and it smells like fresh laundry detergent and heaven. When she emerges, Hope is tilting her head at her in that familiar manner, attempting to hold back amusement or affection- Kelley can never tell. “How are you so--?” Kelley just gestures vaguely with her free hand to Hope’s practically pristine boots and black rain jacket. 

Hope gives her a look, one that says _stop_ and _you’re sweet_ and _really?_ all at once. 

Above them, the skies rumble ominously, and Kelley’s had enough. 

“Let’s get out of here.” Hope says, and steps close enough to lift her umbrella over Kelley’s head. She calls for a Zack and a minute later he’s tumbling into his mother’s side, leaving a smear of mud on her jeans that she doesn’t seem to care about at all. 

\- 

On Tuesday, they’ve just finished up brief scrimmage, Kelley switching from team to team as it pleases her and making the kids crack up, and they’re cleaning up cones and loose balls when Zack yells _dad_! and goes running across the field. Kelley’s throat seems to close up. She stops where she is, a handful of cones stacked between her fingers. 

Zack flies into the arms a tall man in slacks, a pullover, and a beanie, and the man lifts him effortlessly into a hug. Kelley sees the resemblance immediately. He lets Zack to the ground and looks up, and Kelley looks back down at the circles in her hand. 

Kelley knows so little about Zack’s dad, but what she does know goes: he’s not with Hope and he’s not around much. 

Hope doesn’t talk about him hardly at all and neither does Zack, and there’s no pictures to serve as clues; there’s just rare, brief mentions by Zack when he’s called or sent something and Zack wants to show it off to Kelley. A tiny elephant from China, carved wooden bowls from India, smooth stone from Greece. 

Across the field, he fake jukes Zack, pretending to pull some soccer move that looks awkward on his gangly frame, and Zack does his familiar victory dance, one hand on one hip while the other waves with a certain amount of sass. It’s so Zack and it’s so strange to see him so at ease with someone who’s not his mom. 

Kelley feels a gentle nudge against her shoulder blade and knows it’s Ashlyn before she speaks. 

“That must be Jerramy. Zack’s dad.” Ashlyn’s staring at the two of them. 

“Yeah.” Kelley agrees, and turns back. Jerramy is already walking into the parking lot with Zack. They disappear into the rows of cars and Kelley feels a distinct sinking of her heart, straight from her throat to the pit of her stomach. She turns back to the rest of the kids, trying to swallow the disconcerting feeling down. 

\- 

Kelley spends a day or two thinking about exes and ex-husbands and dads and Hope, mostly. Mostly Hope. There are less snapchats but the ones that do come are mostly of Hope by herself, sitting on the couch with a glass of wine or three quick seconds of whatever she’s making for dinner. 

Kelley feels ill at ease, like whatever tentative beginning they’ve carved out has been intruded on. She doesn’t realize how easily she’s made it the three of them in her mind- rashly, subconsciously, but a trio concrete in her head- until there’s a fourth suddenly on board. The specter of Jerramy hangs uncomfortable in the back of her head every time she texts Hope. She tries to dampen the spark of jealousy that flares between her ribs but she’s always been quick to passion. Probably the Irish in her. 

Caitlin comes over and beats her ass in Super Smash Bros. until Kelley’s on her third beer and switches to Kirby. By the time Tobin comes home, fingers smeared with paint and eyes bleary, they’re watching Broad City on the couch and making good use of Cait’s stash. 

When Kelley falls asleep that night she dreams about being in the pictures on Hope’s walls, pictures she knows she’s not in, grinning from a beach and over the top of Zack’s head when he was hardly two months old, walking from photo to photo on the walls. 

There’s no hidden message to decipher there. 

\- 

On Thursday, Hope appears at the edge of the parking lot after practice, hesitating at the end of the cement. Kelley jogs over, honestly just happy to see her and not Jerramy there. 

Hope apologizes, stiltedly, for not mentioning it before. _It_ being her ex-husband coming to pick up her son without any prior notice, and she stumbles a bit over her words- but she’s been busy with work and it had slipped her mind and really- at the end of the day why would she have to mention it to Kelley? 

They stand at the edge of the parking lot, the kids playing on behind them, and Hope looks uncomfortable with her arms crossed over her chest. She’s wearing a dark beanie today and it keep slipping distractedly against her hair whenever Kelley focuses on her because she shifts away, looking anywhere but Kelley’s eyes, her body tight with tension and the beanie slipping off her head. 

She seems on edge, approachable but wary, and Kelley gives her her space. Reminds herself that it’s probably got nothing to do with her and everything to do with the presence of a certain tall human recently. 

It’s not that she’s worried about Jerramy in the _traditiona_ l sense, because she’s not even the type to participate in any sort of a fight over a girl. She just doesn’t know where the line is drawn- what she can ask about and what she shouldn’t, what parts of Hope’s life are still private. So she doesn’t ask, bites back the questions for now. She just takes the apology for what it is and walks Hope back to her car, Zack racing after them as the sun sets over the field. Hope leans back against the driver door with her arms crossed, her eyes lightening with every dumb word coming out of Kelley’s mouth, and Kelley hovers in front of her. Finally, Kelley reaches out to put one overly casual hand onto Hope’s forearm, gives her a gentle squeeze, and retreats. 

As she walks away, she hears a series of taps against a car window, and when she turns Zack is waving enthusiastically from the backseat of the Range Rover and Kelley thinks maybe things will be just fine. 

\- 

He comes to the game on Saturday and sits next to Hope and they look so- just so. Kelley’s not indulging any more mildly sullen emotions and she pointedly doesn’t look at the two of them throughout warm ups, trying and trying to ignore the strange wiggle of jealousy that betrays her. 

It’s a beautiful day, unseasonably warm and bright, and when Kelley pulls Zack to the side at halftime she has to squint in the glare to see him. She’s pointing a couple things out, hands moving erratically as she details a point, and when she looks up Hope is watching her, something soft in her eyes. Kelley keeps her gaze for a moment, forgetting about Jerramy, forgetting about everything but Hope’s eyes in the sunlight. 

Kelley’s gives her a half quirk of smile, sweet and quiet, and when she sees the same smile on Hope’s mouth, something in her settles. 

After the game, Zack pulls Kelley over to meet Jerramy without Kelley really realizing what he’s doing, his hand gripped tight around her wrist as he pulls her across the grass. She’s got her sunglasses on now, some protection against the glare, and when she sees where they’re headed she’s thankful for the fact that they hide just how big her eyes get. 

She resists to urge to pull back from Zack’s grasp. She lets herself be dragged over to where Hope and Jerramy are standing awkwardly, silently, away from the mass of parents. 

“This is my coach.” Zack says, almost shyly, as he brings Kelley to a stop. He hangs by her side. “Kelley, this is my dad.” 

“Hey! Nice to meet you.” Kelley says, and her sunglasses hide the way her smile turns her eyes somewhat deceitful and false. She finds herself at the odd end of a three person triangle and poor Zack is crammed in the middle. Jerramy offers his hand over Zack’s head. 

“Jerramy.” His voice is softer and friendlier than Kelley was expecting, and his smile is genuine. “It’s great to meet you. Zack’s been telling me a lot about you.” 

“You too.” She says, and it’s almost entirely a lie. She shakes his hand and finally turns to Hope. “Hey.” She says, trying to mimic the same bland tone with little success. Her voice is warmer, quieter, bright. Hope’s smile grows. 

“Hi.” She says simply. Beside them, Jerramy is reaching out to Zack. 

“See you next time, bud.” One of Jerramy’s hands spreads across the side of Zack’s head and gently pulls him into his waist, a half hug that Zack leans into. Jerramy’s hand falls to his shoulder and squeezes, and they all see the way Zack seems to fold into himself, sad and quiet. Jerramy squats down, folding his large form in order to catch Zack’s eyes. “I’ll be back in a week.” He promises, reaching out to tug on Zack’s jersey. Zack tumbles forward into his arms, burying himself in Jerramy’s arms and Jerramy holds him close. 

Beside Kelley, Hope has her arms crossed again, and Kelley can feel the tension radiating from her. It begins to fit together. 

Jerramy stands and with one nod to Hope, he’s gone, his long legs crossing the grass quickly. 

All three of them watch him walk away. 

“So…” Kelley drags the word out after enough time has passed quietly. They both look at Kelley, identical wary gazes aimed her way. “…ice cream?” 

When a smile slowly blooms on Zack’s face, quiet but definitely present, Kelley gives him one back. 

\- 

The ice cream shop is crowded and bustling, and Kelley steers Zack with one hand on his shoulder and he pretends to lead her like she’s blind, one of those little kid games that she’s forgotten about until he reminds her. Hope hovers at her shoulder. She’d been quiet the whole ride over, staring out of Kelley’s passenger seat window as the streets ran by. Kelley had let her. 

She’s quiet still as they order ice cream sundaes and Kelley lets Zack get extra whip cream on his, then swipes some and dabs his nose with it. He bats her hand away and shoot his mother a furtive look before getting one miniature finger full of cream and carefully, quickly dapping Hope’s cheek with it. 

Hope stays still for a moment, looking down at her phone, and then she slowly turns to Zack. Zack remains perfectly still. He fails miserably at looking innocent, a tiny devilish smile giving him away, and when Hope dives and wraps her arms around him, he squeals and laughs while she tickles him and manages to get whip cream all over her sleeve and in his hair. 

Kelley finds herself grinning at them once again, charmed all over again, and when they finally turn on her, sticky hands reaching across the table, she’s struck by just how lucky she is to be included with them. To be trusted and pulled into their pair. 

That doesn’t stop her pushing a handful of whip cream onto Hope’s mouth and laughing when she almost snorts some of it. 

\- 

Kelley drops them off their house a couple hours later. Zack is half-asleep in the backseat, still in his soccer uniform with his head slumped onto his shoulder. Hope is more relaxed now. She’s slouches in Kelley’s passenger seat and Kelley can feel her stealing looks, though she can’t quite catch her in the act. 

She parks in Hope’s driveway and gets out as Hope lifts Zack into his arms. He wakes up, still sleepy, and looks at Kelley from Hope’s shoulder, blinking in the late afternoon light and looking like he’s not all there. 

“Have a good night.” Kelley says, her tone a little intimate, a little more tender than she’d like to admit. Hope gazes at her over Zack’s dark hair. 

“You too.” She says. Kelley smiles at Zack and turns to leave. 

Hope grabs her wrist. 

“Come hang out with us.” Hope says fingers soft across the bone of Kelley’s wrist, and then she pulls- just barely, the lightest tug in her direction – and Kelley doesn’t need to be asked twice. 

\- 

They watch Frozen in Hope’s living room, drinking wine while Zack sits approximately one foot from the television and sings all the words under his breath. Hope shares her blanket with Kelley, too close and this is- this is something. This is so obviously something. 

But Kelley’s too warm and sleepy and it’s too perfect, so she simply slumps into the back of the couch and takes it all for granted, for once. 

\- 

Monday is Halloween. It’s the end of October and it’s cold and damp outside. Hope has a get together at her house, promises chili and beer. The team is invited and Kelley goes mostly to see Zack’s costume, which he’s been talking about nonstop and Hope had grumbled about all day yesterday, muttering to Kelley on the phone while Zack yelled nonsense in the background. 

Kelley parks in Hope’s driveway just behind the Range Rover, Carli’s car already parked in front of the house. Kelley tugs her pea coat closer around her shoulder as she walks up the front walk, sandbag candles lighting the way and a couple carved pumpkins on the porch. 

When Kelley walks through the front door, just a little early, Zack comes run-sliding into the foyer and skids to a stop. Both his hands plant on his waist and he juts his chest out, grinning. 

He’s the Falcon, wings sprouting from his back, and he looks _hella_ cool. 

Kelley high fives him and he starts rambling off terrible Halloween jokes, talking a mile a minute and bumping into her as he follows her into the kitchen. She can hear Hope talking in there, and when she walks in Hope is sitting on the counter, Carli stirring a pot of chili on the stove. 

“Hey.” Hope says, smile instantly gracing her features. Kelley’s getting used to that smile. Hope slides off the counter and wraps Kelley in a hug, holds on for a shade too long. Zack dodges around them, making sound effects for his wings. 

“He got into the candy.” Hope murmurs as they part. 

“No way.” Kelley says dryly. Carli is already offering her a beer. 

The rest of the team slowly trickles in, filling up the house and smearing fake blood on the kitchen walls. Kelley fake dies at least once for the benefit of her kids, two of them dressed as zombies and pretending to gnaw off her arm in a rather disturbing show of cannibalism. 

Tobin and Cait blow up her phone with their group message, making fun of her for bailing on slutty drunk Halloween for her mom crush. She sends them a stream of emojis in response and clicks her phone screen off, tucking it away out of sight. 

The light begins to fade outside and the kids grow antsy, disappearing into the backyard and the laundry room, whispering to each other about strange, nonsensical things. Kelley is helping Hope make sure they all have pillow cases and bags while a couple of the braver parents shrug on coats and scarves. Zack’s pushed his mask to the top of his head and his face is shiny with excitement as he bounces on Hope’s couch. 

Hope appears at Kelley’s side. 

“Will you give me a hand?” She nods vaguely down the hall. Kelley follows her out of the living room, Hope tugging Zack off the couch as they pass, and then into the sudden, padded quiet of Hope’s bedroom, their feet making no noise on the carpet. 

Hope leads them past the dresser and to a half-open door against the wall. 

“I know I’ve got extra flashlights around here somewhere.” Hope says. She flicks on the light to her closet, shoes strewn on the floor, and Kelley hesitates at the entryway. There’s piles of cardboard boxes and shoe boxes on the shelves above her hangers and Hope stands in the middle of the closet gazing at them. “Oh.” She says, and starts toward a stack of boxes to her left. 

She has to reach onto her tip toes to the get at the shoebox on the top of the stack, and Kelley takes a step forward to help. Hope’s just tugging the shoebox down when the box below it begins to tip, and then the one below that. 

“Shit.” Hope says, but she’s almost laughing, both hands lifted to balance the boxes on the shelf. Kelley leans as far up as she can, far too short for this and stumbling a little closer until she’s almost against Hope’s back. 

“Not the best backup for this.” Kelley huffs, straining to tilt the lower box back into place. She moves back, avoiding Hope’s elbow coming down and the ridiculously intoxicating scent of her, but Kelley’s heart is already beating too fast with temptation. She’s sure her cheeks are flushed. 

When Hope turns back to her, shoebox in her hands, they’re hardly six inches apart. She’s smiling. She reaches in the box and pulls out a single flashlight triumphantly. 

“Told you.” She says, far too proud of herself, and she drops the empty shoebox onto the ground. It’s that dumb smug smirk that does it, and the quietness of her voice between them, the way she’s still too close. Her eyes sparkle with warmth. It’s mesmerizing. 

“Good job.” Kelley says just as softly, her tone sarcastic. 

Hope’s eyes falter down to Kelley’s mouth for a second, a fraction of a second, and Kelley can watch the warmth spread across Hope’s cheeks and back into her ears and she simply leans up, her heart pounding like a bass drum in her chest. 

Kelley brushes her mouth against Hope’s like the promise of a kiss, light and unsatisfying, a question. As soon as their lips meet, Hope inhales sharply through her noise and takes a faltering step back. 

Kelley’s eyes shoot open. Already she can feel her face turning bright, hot red. That was _stupid_ and _thoughtless._

“Sorry-” Kelley starts, but Hope reaches out and puts a hand on top of hers, effectively stopping her though the touch is light and hesitant. 

“It’s not a no.” Hope says, barely breathing, her eyes dark and searching Kelley’s. Her fingers briefly tighten on Kelley’s hand. “It’s just a not right now.” 

Kelley swallows and has to accept the excuse. She doesn’t have much of a choice. She takes a step back anyway, breaking the contact between their hands. 

“Okay.” She says, working to remember to breathe. She still feels the pressure of Hope’s mouth on hers. The flashlight hangs from Hope’s other hand and Kelley offers her a tremulous smile. 

Kelley turns and walks out of the closet. 


	5. Chapter 5

Tuesday’s a shit show because she’s supposed to finish this abstract and she can’t stop thinking about just how warm Hope’s mouth had felt against hers for the briefest of moments. She wanders around the kitchen, leaning into the counter with her arms crossed. On the stove, the gas flames smolder beneath the tea kettle and through the window she can't tell if it's drizzling or not through all the fog. The late afternoon light is fading. Her feet are cold even through her socks.

She remembers the brush of Hope's fingertips on her skin, hesitant but somehow tugging, trying to keep her near. A letdown, and a gentle one. An apology in touch.

But also: _not right now_. Hope's gaze flickering from one of Kelley's eyes to the other, gauging her, examining and careful. Always so careful.

The kettle starts to whistle, low and eerie. Kelley twists the burner off.

When she sits back down at her desk, her mug steaming under her chin with every sip, she stares at the half page of words on her computer screen and thinks: _it's not a no_. The way she'd been able to smell Hope's shampoo when she'd leaned in, the way their noses had brushed.

She's driving herself nuts.

-

At practice the next day, Hope walks Kelley to her car from the field. Zack dribbles a soccer ball a few feet back. The scuff of his cleats on the cement breaks the uneven silence between them, heavy with undiscussed events, unstable with all the words bridging the tip of her tongue. Kelley shifts the bag slung over her shoulder. She glances to her left, but Hope's impenetrable behind her sunglasses.

Kelley tosses the balls into her trunk and slams it shut. Her mind whirs, trying to find words that aren't horrendously awkward or false or overwrought. She must stare at her trunk a moment too long, because Hope reaches out and her hand closes over Kelley’s wrist, warm and soft. Like fire on her skin.

"Come over for dinner tonight?" She lets go of Kelley's wrist and her hand goes to her face, pushes her sunglasses to the top of her head. It's the eyes that do it. It's remembering the touch of her mouth. Kelley's eyes light up, but she plays for casual, leaning one hip against her trunk.

"Sure, can I bring anything?"

"Just yourself." Hope says, already retreating backwards from her invitation. She reaches out and retreats back in uniformed motion, protecting herself even as she invites Kelley closer. Zack is standing behind her, ball tucked against his side as he watches them.

"I'll be there."

-

Kelley shows up at Hope's front door with a box of Chips Ahoy tucked under her arm and Hope smiles and smiles.

"Replenishing my supply?" She asks as Kelley hands it over.

"I did eat half a box last week." Kelley says. She fights the urge to fit her hands awkwardly on her hips. Hope leads the way inside, past Zack on the warmly lit living room floor and into the kitchen. The room smells like tomato sauce and garlic and Kelley's stomach shows its appreciation.

They fall into a easy orbit. Hope returns to her half chopped salad on the cutting board and Kelley finds the wine opener in one of the drawers. Hope tells her about Zack's field trip- safe territory- and somehow Kelley dives into a long explanation of her thesis, her hands moving more quickly the more thoughtful she becomes, and Hope stops chopping to watch her.

Embarrassed, Kelley turns to the cabinets behind her, looking for wine glasses. When she turns back a moment later with two glasses hooked between her fingers, Hope is still watching her.

"How did you end up doing environmental science?" Hope asks, and when her attention is laser sharp like this Kelley feels compelled to answer whatever she asks. It's more than that- she feels _invigorated_ with Hope's attention, like everything she means and says has larger meaning beyond her.

"My dad." Kelley says, setting the glasses on the center chopping block. "He's a lawyer, actually, but when I was younger we would go camping all over the country. I loved the woods and the mountains and when I got older, I learned what we were doing to them. That we had been destroying them. And I wanted to help stop that."

"You really believe in it." It's not a question and it's not a criticism when Hope's looking at her like that. Kelley comes close enough to hand her a glass of wine.

"I believe in every thing I do." Kelley says, a cheesy statement but one that's run a path through her head for years. She nods towards the living room where Spongebob plays just loud enough to be heard. "The guys on the team, what I'm doing in school. It doesn't mean anything if you don't believe in it." They're standing too close again, glasses almost clinking between them. Kelley avoids a sudden rush of nerves with a sip of wine.

Hope opens her mouth to speak, and the timer on the oven begins to beep, loud and oblivious to just how magnetic Hope's eyes are.

With a final, thoughtful look at Kelley, she turns to the stove.

-

Zack's chin just rises over the edge of the table and it's a short trip from the plate to his mouth. Kelley guesses that probably minimizes the amount of lasgna missing his mouth, but mostly she just thinks it's cute.

Hope is slouched and comfortable at the head of her table. Kelley watches the tattoo on her wrist flex every time she reaches for her glass.

It washes over her mid-meal, a little scary but just _right_ , this feeling of perfect contentness. The table is quiet as they all eat but the room rings with echoes of laughter and Kelley thinks _I want this_ and it's more clear than it ever has been.

"Where do you live?" Zack asks, mouth full of garlic bread, and Hope reprimands him gently, reaching over to offer him a napkin. She catches Kelley's eyes, full of chagrined amusement and something else, and for a moment Kelley sees it all reflected back at her.

-

It's cold outside when Kelley finally drags herself out the door, bundled in her jacket and a borrowed scarf. Hope is handsy after a bottle of wine, reaching out to adjust the fluff of Kelley's scarf as it bursts from the top of her jacket, her fingers brushing Kelley's neck just above her collarbone. Kelley is warm all over.

"Thanks for dinner." She says. Her voice is soft as it crosses the small space between them.

"Any time." Hope's leaning against her doorway, all slouch and swagger and slightly hooded eyes, and she pulls her hand back from Kelley's skin.

"Next time, I'll cook."

A smile breaks across Hope's face.

"I've heard your cooking stories. I don't want you to poison Zack." Kelley smiles despite herself.

"Well maybe we'll have to go out then."

"Maybe." Hope responds, her eyes bright with something new.

Kelley leans in and pulls Hope into a warm hug and something so simple shouldn't make her heart pound like this. Hope is familiar in all the right ways and they embrace longer than necessary, past the point they've been edging around. Hope's hands tighten around Kelley's shoulders.

-

Kelley musters her courage and texts Hope the next night, right after dinner time: _Hey, the Wizard of Oz is playing on Friday, would you and Zack like to go with me?_

Hope she doesn’t ask if it’s a date.

 _Sounds great. :)_ She texts back.

Anyway, if she had asked, it definitely is.

-

Zack is stoked about the movie but more stoked about the grandness of the old theater. He insists on wearing his Nike armband and his new kicks and he refuses to hold either of their hands as they walk a few blocks to the theater, but he stays close in between them anyway, shoulders bumping into their legs. He looks up in awe at the glowing letters that extend out from the stone building, blinking in the night.

Hope catches Kelley’s gaze from his side. Her eyes are warm and indulgent and fond, and Kelley feels her cheeks warm when she grins back.

They get inside and find their seats, shedding their pea coats in the toasty warmth of the theater. Zack sits up on his knees in his seat, surveying everyone around them, looking back at the balcony above them and the boxes to the side of the stage. Kelley points out the different speakers to him and he asks about the gilded curve of the ceiling. Hope disappears and comes back with two beers and a Sprite for Zack and when the lights dim Zack sits straight up his seat. Hope puts one hand on his knee, keeping him seated.

By the end of the show, Zack is falling asleep on Kelley's shoulder, eyelashes fluttering against sleep. Kelley wishes she could drown in the look Hope gets as she watches them.

-

They walk out of the theater and into the brisk night and Hope has Zack in her arms by the time they reach the end of the block. He's too sleepy to complain, still nodding off against her shoulder. Hope keeps one hand firm against his back, always protective in the simplest ways.

"We're off to see the wizard." Kelley is half-singing under her breath without really noticing it.

"Are we." Hope says dryly, and Kelley laughs. Her hands itch to wrap around Hope's arm, to pull her closer, but she shoves them in her pockets instead.

"When I was a kid, the munchkins were my favorite part. I used to rewind to watch them sing over and over again."

Kelley is talking, walking sideways, and she hears the roar of wind at the same time Hope's hand closes over her shoulder, holding her in place. The car whips behind her and Kelley sways before taking one step closer to Hope. The dim streetlight above shadows her eyes, darkening the make up around them.

"Lions, tigers, and bears, oh my." Kelley says dumbly, her eyes a little wide.

Hope rolls her eyes.

"C'mon, let's get you home before a house falls on you." Hope runs her hand down the length of Kelley's arm before replacing her palm against Zack's back, holding him carefully as she steps off the curb. Kelley grins and grins.

"Man, that was a bad joke." She says, a step behind Hope as she crosses the street.

"Shut up." But there's a smile taking over Hope's voice.

-

They get home late. Hope's porch lights shine like homing beacons when they pull into the driveway. Hope carries Zack to bed and Kelley locks up behind them, the front door clicking ominously in the dark quiet. She breathes in the smell of Hope's house. She realizes she's spent as much time here as she has at her own apartment lately.

Kelley walks into the kitchen, flipping on a couple lights as she goes.

Hope returns a couple minutes later, heels abandoned and hair a little wilder around her shoulder. She's stunning in her bare feet. Kelley hops onto the counter and just watches her, her sandals swinging absentmindedly near the cabinets, both of them quiet as Zack sleeps down the hall. Hope opens a bottle of wine for the two of them, snags two glasses, and leads the way onto the back porch.

They sit out on the swing on the patio, wrapped in blankets against the fall chill and talking quietly while the moon hangs on the horizon.

Kelley catches the challenging look in Hope's eyes more than once. Wants it to be what she wants it be - doesn't want to push it.

"How did you end up coaching again?" Hope asks, her glass almost drained.

"Bad luck more than anything else." She laughs. "Ashlyn knew I had time on my hands." She tilts her head closer, her cheek almost against Hope's shoulder. There's a familiar magnetism between them that keeps them edging closer, dangerously near, like a string taunt between them. When Hope looks back at Kelley they're in that space again, inches away and brimming with temptation.

"I'll have to thank Ashlyn for that some day." Hope says, and it should be cheesy not charming but each word closes the space between them. Kelley leans over and kisses Hope with her wine-stained mouth, soft and chaste until Hope catches her lip between her own and nips with her teeth. Until Hope kisses her back and their first kiss, that first brush of lips, is erased by this one. By Hope's tongue and the taste of shiraz and the fist of her hand in Kelley's blanket, pulling her in closer.

Kelley’s warm all over by the time Hope pulls away, just far enough that they can see each other. The look in her eyes seals Kelley’s fate.

-

Their game the next day is a blur of staring at Hope across the field, sunlight dappling her vision, and having Ashlyn laugh at her. From the stands, Hope grins.

Afterwards, Kelley follows them home and they play baseball in the backyard with Zack, almost taking out a window and a ceramic planter. Kelley has to duck from one of Zack's wild pitches and Hope laughs so hard that she doubles over and Kelley grins and grins.

They cook together, Kelley and Zack under careful supervision from Hope. It doesn't stop Kelley from sneaking Zack chopped bits of tomatoes dashed with salt. Kelley watches Hope cook, a balanced system of organization and multitasking that makes her somewhat envious. Her cooking looks more like an elephant set loose in a Publix.

Kelley listens to Zack set the table in the dining room, the clink of ceramic and silverware echoing, and when Hope reaches for the salad behind her she comes a little too close, a little too familiar. Kelley hooks two fingers in the loops of Hope's jeans but Hope only presses a kiss too her cheek, brief and fleeting, and carries the salad bowl into the dining room.

After dinner, Zack disappears to his room and Hope kisses her against the kitchen counter, burying her hands in Kelley's hair and keeping her in place with her hips. Kelley is drowning; thrilled about it; completely breathless.

They try to wash the dishes afterwards. The warm water turns Kelley's arms red to match the flush along her cheeks and down her neck. Kelley dries her soapy hands on a dish towel while Hope puts the last pot away.

"Thanks." Hope says, walking over to take the dish towel from her and wipe at damp hands.

"Any time." Kelley says. It's offhand but more sincere than she'd meant and she gives Hope a small quirk of a self-conscious smile.

"You're good with Zack." Hope says.

"Is that why you're keeping me around?" Kelley asks, snaking one hand out to grab Hope's waist. Hope doesn't resist. She leans against Kelley against the counter, warm and solid and soft. This isn't the space to have this conversation, with Hope too close and her mouth too memorable. "I love Zack. He's incredible." Kelley says simply.

"Well, at least we agree on something." Hope's got that dumb grin on her face that she gets whenever she tries to be clever and it _does_ things to Kelley. She still rolls her eyes. Hope is still close and she's going to kiss her and a pool of happiness settles light in Kelley's chest. It's big. It's joy.

Hope leans in and pushes her hair out of her face and kisses her. It’s softer and sweeter than any kiss she’s given Kelley yet. It feels like a promise.

-

At practice on Thursday, Ashlyn’s in a soft cast. She moves more quickly even though she looks like a crippled elephant. Kelley tells her as much. They’ve only got one game left in the season. Kelley’s gonna miss these little dudes.

“And probably someone else.” Ashlyn winks. Kelley rolls her eyes.

“Maybe not.” Is all she says.

-

Their last game feels like a celebration before it's even started. They've only lost a single game and it seems unfathomable that they'd lose this one. The parents mill around more than usual, lingering close to the field while their coffees steam in the morning. It's startling, but they feel like a family now.

Kelley's on the bench scribbling out subs as quickly as possible, the process second nature. The kids are running laps and they yell and giggle as they run by her. Kelley takes a moment, short and indulgent, to appreciate the atmosphere they've created with their guys. The way they've always stressed the joy in playing.

Kelley snags the edge of Zack's jersey as he runs by her and pulls him back. He swerves. He looks ridiculous in his Nike headband but he insists he has to match all the other bands on his biceps and wrists. Kelley holds out a pair of goalkeeper gloves.

"Go get your mom to help you put these on." She says. He must see right through her smirk. He suddenly looks exactly like his mom.

"It's your funeral." He says, and he _is_ Hope. What has she gotten herself into. He jogs off and Kelley returns to her notes, pressing the pen too firmly against the paper. It breaks through, staining her jeans.

She catches sight of Hope's long stride from under her eyelashes long before Hope reaches the bench. She looks up, but Hope's hands are empty. She spies Zack in goal, already warming up with gloves in place.

"Funny." Hope says, and the quirk at the corner of her mouth agrees.

"I thought you were going to kill me." Kelley says, the memory still clear and strangely amusing now. Kelley stands up.

"I was." Then Hope laughs. Her hands are tucked in her pockets and she looks relaxed and at ease. "It's a long story. Ask me another time." Her eyes catch Kelley's briefly. Kelley's not put off. She's slowly learning all the ways Hope keeps her promises, follows through. She's seen her falter and hesitate, cautious and careful, but only ever for a moment. Only ever for and in front of Kelley, like a deep breath before admitting the truth, before diving off the cliff. Kelley's learning to appreciate the vulnerability.

Kelley tucks the sub list into her back pocket. She has to squint up at Hope to see her- not that she'd admit it, ever. "So, what are you doing after this?" Kelley wiggles her eyebrows in a wholly uncharming way but she's rewarded with Hope's laugh.

"You tell me."

-

They win. Of course they win. The team and Ashlyn and Kelley rush through the good games and handshakes and when Kelley looks up, their parents have formed a long tunnel across the field. All Kelley sees is Hope at the front of the line, waiting.

Kelley puts her palms against Hope’s, their triangle uneven in height even when Kelley leans up on her tip toes, and they grin at each other as a stream of six year olds race between them, screaming in laughter.

-

After the game is pizza and medals and Kelley challenging Ashlyn to ice hockey in the arcade while their team picks favorites and cheers them on. Hope cheers for Ashlyn, the traitor, but Zack hovers at Kelley's elbow throughout the whole game.

After lunch, they give Kelley and Ashlyn two bags stuffed with tissue paper while their guys crowd around them in anticipation. The parents hover behind them and Kelley looks at Hope for a moment, just a glance to share this moment with her because somehow it's better when Hope is near. Brighter.

Inside each bag is a framed team picture, Ashlyn and Kelley at either end of their group, everyone grinning happily at the camera and slightly muddy. The sky is gray but they don't seem to mind. The top of the frame read _Division Champions_. In the bag, beneath the picture, is a simple silver bracelet with their team mascot.

Kelley does not cry. Not a lot, anyway.

The kids are reluctant to leave but not near as much as Kelley and Ashlyn, who stay until there's no one left.

-

Sunday night, Kelley brings dinner to Hope’s house. She's wearing the bracelet on her left wrist, still buzzing from the bittersweet beauty of yesterday. Zack is building some sort of science project that takes up half the dining room and Kelley sits on the floor with him while Hope googles various facts, her hair thrown up in a bun, frustrated and looking adorably frazzled.

“If someone had told me about this project before tonight.” Hope says dryly.

Zack snaps off the top of his science project. Hope groans and her head hits the table.

Kelley can’t help but laugh.

Can't help but think: _Yes. I'm home_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for all the encouragement and sticking this one out with me! y'all are the greatest.


End file.
